


Here's to Pride

by Seraph_Novak



Series: Destiel One-Shots [37]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel in the Bunker, Coming Out, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, POV Dean Winchester, Pride, Supportive Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 06:31:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14994884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seraph_Novak/pseuds/Seraph_Novak
Summary: When Castiel returns to the bunker wearing a pansexual t-shirt, Dean is shocked to find out that the angel isn't completely straight. A heart to heart follows, and feelings are finally revealed.





	Here's to Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! I apologise for not posting anything lately... I've been busy working on my Michael's Angel's re-write, as well as planning out my first novel, but I wanted to write something for Pride Month, so here we are! I really hope you enjoy it. As always, all kudos and comments are very much appreciated. Thanks for reading ♥

Dean was so focussed on the article he was reading – something about heartless corpses popping up all over the place in some dead-end town in the middle of nowhere – that he didn't even notice Cas coming down the stairs and taking a seat next to Sam across the table. It was the bright flash of colour that caught his eye, peeking out from beneath the mute shade of Cas' signature trenchcoat. Dean turned his attention away from his laptop and slowly rolled his gaze up Cas' neon-clad chest, taking in the pink, yellow, and blue stripes running horizontally across the angel's upper body. It was such an un-Cas-like outfit that Dean couldn't help but openly gawk.

"Um," he said after a while, his jaw still hanging off its hinges. "Cas? What the hell are you wearing, man?"

Sam flicked a glance at Cas' shirt, then frowned. "Dude. It's the pansexual flag."

"The what now?"

"The pansexual flag," Sam said, raising his eyebrows as if he were trying to explain what a pony was to a five-year-old. "You know... pansexual? It means you're attracted to all genders."

Dean wrinkled his nose. "Ain't that bi?"

"No, that means you're attracted to _two_ or more genders."

"Uh-huh..."

Sam rolled his eyes. "There’s more than just girls and boys, Dean."

"There is?"

"Well, _yeah_. There's transgender, bigender, non-binary –"

"Okay, okay!" Dean waved off an upcoming headache and turned back to Cas, who was studying his shirt with pinched brows. "So why the hell is Cas wearing the pansexual flag?"

Sam shrugged. "It's Pride Month. There's a bunch of people selling them in town."

"A young woman sold it to me," Cas explained, finally lifting his eyes and meeting Dean's gaze. "She asked me if I wanted to show my support by buying a shirt, but there were so many different variations, I wasn't sure how to choose... So, she asked me what my sexual preference was, and I told her that I had none. And then she gave me this." He looked down at the shirt again, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "I like the colours. They're very unabashed."

Dean blinked a few times, his brain slowly catching up with the situation. "So, what? You're... pansexual?"

"I'm not sure there is a label for what I am," Cas said. "But if wearing this shirt is a way of showing support for those who are, then I'll wear it proudly."

"Good for you." Sam clapped him on the back and smiled.

Dean watched with wide eyes as they both returned to their research as if nothing had happened. He was too overwhelmed with warring emotions – confusion and intrigue and longing – to speak for a moment, but then the words came bubbling out: "I thought you were straight?"

Sam quirked an eyebrow, and Cas simply frowned.

"You've only ever been with girls," Dean said, wincing at the squeak of desperation in his voice. "I mean, you... you never told me you were... I just assumed that, you know... I mean, you never said anything, so I just... I didn't know..." He trailed off lamely, heat rushing to his face.

Sam cleared his throat. "I'm gonna go get some food," he said. "You guys should talk this out – for real, this time."

Dean wasn't sure what he meant by that, but he was grateful to his brother for giving them some space. He tossed Sam the keys to the Impala – not even bothering with the "not a single scratch" speech – and waited until his footsteps had disappeared up the stairs before turning back to Cas. The angel was looking at him with his head tilted to the side, and Dean vaguely realised how the blue stripe on the bottom of his shirt really made his eyes pop.

"So," he said, lifting his shoulders in time with his eyebrows, "you're not straight."

Cas huffed. "What on earth ever made you think I was?"

"I've never seen you with a guy before."

"And you've seen me with girls?"

"Oh, c'mon... Meg? Hannah? Kelly? That fricking reaper that seduced you?"

"I was never attracted to Hannah or Kelly," Cas said, his voice close to a growl. "And April manipulated me at my most vulnerable. You know that."

Dean felt a stab of guilt, but didn't back down. "What about Meg?"

"I was attracted to her, yes. But never romantically."

"And you've been attracted to guys, too?"

"Yes."

"Such as...?"

Cas ground his teeth together. "Why does it matter to you?"

"It doesn't!"

"Then why are you acting like this?"

Dean threw his hands in the air. "We're supposed to be best friends! Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it was obvious."

"Not to me."

"Would it have made a difference if you knew?"

"I... I don't know..."

Cas folded his hands on top of the table, his eyes sparking with fury. "Are you uncomfortable with this, Dean? Is that why you're acting so strangely? Does the idea of being friends with someone like me repulse you?"

Dean balked. "What? No! Of course not, you idiot! What the hell d'you take me for?"

"I'm just trying to comprehend why you're taking this so personally."

"I'm not taking it personally."

"Well, Sam certainly didn't react this way."

"Oh, good for him!"

"Dean" – Cas pressed his lips together in an obvious effort not to completely lose his shit – "is there something you want to say to me?"

Dean shrunk down in his chair. "No."

"Okay."

They were quiet for a moment, each of them pretending to focus on the research in front of them. Dean tapped the space bar on his laptop several times, then slammed the lid shut. Cas gently closed the dusty lore book he was reading and looked up at him. Again, they were quiet, but now the air between them was humming with energy, waiting to be snapped in half by the inevitable words taking shape on the tip of Dean's tongue.

He took a deep breath, billowed his cheeks, and said, "Do you find me attractive?"

Cas didn't even blink. "Yes," he said.

Dean slammed a fist against his chest to keep himself from choking on his own spit. "In what way?"

"In every way imaginable."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Well" – Cas tilted his head in thought, the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth as the words came to him – "it's not just the way you look, or the way your soul shines brighter than any I've ever seen before... it's just who you are, the way you behave and smile and constantly put the needs of others above your own." Cas shook his head a little, his eyes meeting Dean's without an ounce of shame or vulnerability. "Your physical form – although aesthetically pleasing – contributes nothing to the way I feel about you. And if that makes me pansexual, or something else entirely, I don’t really care." He shrugged. "I am what I am, and that's that."

Dean's throat rippled, his fingers twitching in his lap. He had no idea how he was supposed to respond to an emotional monologue like that. Sam would probably say something profound or comforting, but Dean was just Dean, so all he could think to do was muster a smirk and say, "You think I'm aesthetically pleasing, huh?"

Cas huffed a laugh. "I do, yes."

"But that ain't the only reason you're attracted to me?"

"Of course not."

"So... you like me for more than just my looks?"

Cas furrowed his brow and smiled, as if he found the question oddly endearing. "Do you honestly believe the only reason I've sacrificed so much to be here with you is because I like the way you look?"

Dean lowered his gaze, a light blush dusting his cheeks. Most of the girls he slept with only gravitated towards him for one reason – and it _wasn't_ his charming personality. He was so used to playing the role of 'hot stranger in a bar' that the idea of someone giving a crap about the real guy beneath the easy facade was actually quite unnerving. But the fact that it was Cas – the first man he'd internally admitted to being attracted to since he was a teenager – put the entire situation on a whole new level of surreal. 

"You know," he said, twisting his fingers together as he stared down at the table, "this whole 'pride month' thing is actually pretty cool... I kinda wish there'd been something like that for me when I was growing up. It might've helped me with a few things." He gulped. "You get what I'm saying?"

Cas reached across the table and threaded their fingers together. His touch was almost as soft as the look in his eyes. He was smiling at Dean like he was the sweetest thing on the whole damn planet, and it made him feel itchy and weird – but in a good sort of way. And when Cas swept a thumb over his knuckles, Dean shuddered and smiled, and everything made a strange kind of sense. He wondered if maybe some hands were destined to hold each other. It was a sappy idea, but the thought made his heart flutter with hope.

"The lady who sold me the shirt told me there was some kind of pride parade happening in town next week... Would you care to accompany me?"

Dean froze up, his stomach dropping like a broken elevator. He tried to picture himself waving a flag and cheering amongst a crowd of hopeful, happy people, and his throat grew tight with emotion.

"Uh, yeah," he said, feigning nonchalance with a one-shouldered shrug. "I can do that."

Cas' nose crinkled. It was adorable.

When Sam returned to the bunker twenty minutes later – two large pizzas and a mysterious paper bag tucked under his armpit – he greeted the sight of their joined hands with a soft, knowing smile and said nothing. Dean resisted the natural urge to snatch his hand away and looked his brother straight in the eye, waiting for some kind of response.

"Well?" he said, when the silence became too much.

Sam answered by passing him the paper bag. Dean gave him a frown, then emptied its contents onto the table. A shock of pink, purple, and blue stripes greeted him in the form of a shirt – similar to Cas' – and Dean held it against his chest with an open mouth. When he looked back at Sam, his brother was practically beaming.

"I guess you could say I've known for a while."

"You sonofabitch." Dean grinned. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Did you want me to come out _for_ you?"

"No, but... How long've you known?"

Sam's smile softened slightly. "Since we were kids."

"Really?"

"You weren't exactly subtle."

"Well, shit."

They both laughed.

"So" – Sam flicked a look between him and Cas – "are you guys finally together now?"

Cas' eyes grew comically wide, his hand twisting anxiously in Dean's firm yet slightly sweaty grip. "Oh. We haven't really, um... I'm not sure –"

"We're gonna take it slow," Dean said, effectively putting Cas' rising meltdown on pause, "but, yeah... I think so." He licked his lips and risked a glance at the stunned angel sitting across from him. "Right?"

Cas blinked dazedly, then smiled. "Yes. I'd like that very much."

"Well, okay then. I guess we're dating."

"Okay," Cas said, his smile dipping into a goofy grin.

Sam chuckled. "You guys are gonna be one of those sickeningly adorable couples, aren't you?"

"Shaddup."

"No, no! I think it's good," he said. "It's nice to see you two... happy."

Dean scratched the corner of his mouth and shrugged, the pulse in his hand twitching against Cas' warm, celestial-soft skin. "Alright, you big sap... don’t go making a huge deal out of it. "

"I'm not allowed to be happy for you guys?"

"In moderation, yeah."

Cas lifted their joined hands to his mouth (which roused an embarrassing yelp from Dean) and nodded graciously. "We appreciate your support, Sam. Just ignore Dean's pitiful attempts at defending his masculinity."

Sam snorted at Dean's mottled embarrassment. "This is gonna be fun," he said.

Four hours later – their stomachs full, and their heads dizzy with fatigue – Dean and Cas stumbled into the same room for the first time. They kissed in the doorway – long and slow and exploratory – then slipped out of their clothes and got into bed, their hands finding each other beneath the sheets. They didn't do anything other than lie there and talk, a comforting air of familiarity settling between them. They were still Dean and Cas, but now they were something more as well. And, strangely enough, it didn't feel weird at all.

"I'm glad I bought that shirt," Cas whispered, tucking his head under Dean's chin. "Who knows how long we might've had to wait for this to happen if I hadn't."

Dean huffed a laugh. "You saying we owe our relationship to a t-shirt stand?"

"In a way, yes."

"It's a good thing Sam went back and bought another one then."

Cas smiled against his collarbone. "We'd have to buy the entire stand to truly pay them back."

Dean looked over at the shirt – now hanging proudly from the back of his door – and found himself grinning like an idiot in the near-darkness. He pulled Cas impossibly closer and pressed a kiss against his temple. He smelt like pizza and coffee, and Dean loved him so much it ached.

"It's a good thing I'm bi," he said, "'cause I look fucking awesome in purple."


End file.
